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we explore coming from the city and living in Maine, keeping chickens, homeschooling, cooking good food and trying to grow it, building a wood-fired pizza oven, bringing home our goats (finally!), reading wonderful books, stirring the compost, and taking time to smell the petunias.

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Saturday, December 4, 2010

December is the month of making—presents, food, memories. My wish is always to make gifts that light up my dears. Last year I set about my work and ended up making myself a gift that I will treasure forever. It was the gift of a lesson learned the bleary-eyed, head-achey way.

About October, I set out to make a Disappearing Nine Patch quilt top for each of my daughters.

I cherish the family quilts I have been given through the years. One was made by my great-grandmother (the original Blossom!). Another was made for my beloved Great-aunt Ella to celebrate her marriage. My mother has given me several. I wanted to share the beauty of quilting with my daughters.

My idea was that the girls and I would spend the winter months quilting together. I set Birch to work on quilting frames, and I gathered fabric from dresses and jammies and blankets I had made for Blossom and Fern when they were babies. I cut pieces out of their crib sheets. I clipped squares from Birch's old shirts and from scraps of my wedding dress.

Night after night, I cut blocks. Then I sewed them together and began cutting them apart and rearranging them into the quilt blocks.

My hours got later and later. I enjoyed the work less. By day, I would shut myself in my cubby. I would hear the rest of the family laughing. And I would want to be with them instead of crouched over my crotchety sewing machine.

Then the girls needed the machine for their Christmas projects. I worked as their assistant, and we talked as the needle thrummed. I ripped out seams that went wrong and told the girls about my mother ripping out seams for me. "Always have someone nearby to help with mistakes," I advised them. "You don't want to be alone with a mistake. You want to be with someone who loves you." The girls beamed as their projects took shape. They would plant kisses on my temple as I deployed the seam ripper. We giggled about our foibles.

It was about then I realized that these moments were the very ones I had fantasized about when I came up with the quilting-by-the-fire gift idea. We were already having the gift—spending time together, passing along family traditions.

That's when I decided enough was enough. For Christmas, the girls would get the quilt blocks, and then the three of us would sew the blocks together. Someday we'd get to the quilting-by-the-fire part.

I down-sized my great expectations. But since I still wanted Christmas morning to have sparkle, I made the girls quilted stockings, a variation on the ones I made for Birch and me when we were newlyweds.

Those quilted stockings will be a reminder to the girls every Christmas of their lives. Their mother loves them. Those stockings will also be a reminder to me. Slow down. Enjoy what you are doing this moment. This moment is the gift.

Your home looks so cosy June- with the beautiful stockings, the stove and kitty on the floor....did you have your rug in mind when you made the stockings...the colors go so beautifully together. I think you are so smart "enjoy what you are doing this moment" I couldn't agree more!

Lovely post. I think we all have wonderful memories of our Christmas stockings! How special for your girls. Adore the rug too.. Have to say we have a similar situation with the cats melted to the floor in front of the stove. Isn't it fun to watch them turn into taffy? Have a wonderful holiday season. Love to you all ~

Oh June. What a fantastic post and a wonderful reminder. I love that you had all these items from your girls to pull from. I have been itching to do quilts again too. One my grandmother made me still sits in my room today.

I do know though about what you are talking about, as much as I love sewing it can be so frustrating sometimes. Great advice you gave about having someone nearby.

Your stockings are gorgeous. Looks like you will have a very, merry Christmas.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. I loved this. I especially love the part about having someone who loves you around when you make mistakes. Profound words for life. Thanks, June for just the best posting.